


Tied Tight

by riot3672



Series: Reylo [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sex (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Massage, Mutual Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sexual Content, Sleepy Sex, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-15 11:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riot3672/pseuds/riot3672
Summary: Rey and Kylo are enemies, but their force bond remains. And, late at night, the constructed hatred slips into idle conversation, memories, musings, and questions raised between the two of them. One night, when the sexual limits of the force bond are tested, there's no going back...





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. Rey had told herself that she controlled it, that enough resolve could keep her mind closed, keep him away. Him, still such a difficult pronoun to fully encompass everything, but easier than constantly deciding between Kylo and Ben. She knew what she said to others. Kylo Ren, the most impersonal, diminutive form of his name possible. Not _Supreme Leader_ , not just Kylo. It held nothing onto it. And she wore the words like armor, even in front of Leia. Even when there were moments looking in her eyes and remembering the way the light flashed across her son’s eyes in the same way when she wanted to call him anything but Kylo Ren.

  
In these moments, though, shut into her quarters on remote Resistance bases, the chambers quiet enough to hear the thud of night guards outside her door, he felt the most like Ben.

  
“Couldn’t sleep?” he said.

  
Rey looked up, and there Kylo was again. No masks, no gloves. At the same time, though, no showing off through exposed skin, showcased muscle. He sat in a meditative position, down to one simple layer of black clothing, his hair mussed from a day out. There was a heaviness in his eyes, but it wasn’t necessarily sadness. In fact, the lines pressed under his eyes simply seemed like the marks of someone who never slept. They weren’t connected often enough for Rey to know for certain, but she’d wager on it.

She broke eye contact. “No.”

He ran the edge of a finger over his eye—the one without the scar—the movement gentle. It seemed odd in a way, thinking that Kylo could be gentle about anything. Especially not against his own skin. She’d memorized the way he acted in battle—against her, with her—and there was no doubt the way he could ignore wounds came from more than raw determination. There was a loathing to it, like he’d cause himself more pain to energize himself. If not that, a disregard. A proper swing of his lightsaber was worth more than any nicks from battle.

“Then again, do you remember the last time you slept well?”

“When my parents were still with me,” Rey said. She wouldn’t have otherwise confessed, but the longer they’d had this connection, the more she’d realized just how unguarded her thoughts were when they were together. “After that, it was an escape from something else.”

“A numbness,” Kylo said. “Like medicine on a wound.”

“It used to mean something. We’d all huddle together…”

“She’d run a hand through my hair…”

She smiled despite herself, Kylo shedding glimpses of his words. A young Leia, Kylo barely older than a baby, nestled tight against each other.

“I doubt I’ll ever sleep like that again,” Rey said, brushing away the thoughts of her parents. The nobodies. “Just phantoms of the past.”

Kylo dropped onto his back. In his quarters, he may have been moving as innocently as laying down on his bed. In their world, though, he was within a foot of her, the crown of his head facing her as she sat cross legged. “Even the Dark Side puts such value in being still. As if not moving could get rid of the energy.”

She knew what he meant, and that he meant it. Even as he laid down, his fingertip slid in a circle. Perhaps there was a circular stain on the floor, a design in the blankets. Rey thought about asking, but it was fleeting.

“Sometimes I walk,” Rey said.

Her gaze locked on the circles Kylo drew. It was mesmerizing, somehow. A muscle deep in her stomach tightened.

“I think about it,” Kylo said. “But I hate breaking the flow, seeing people. Even if I’d never engage them, just their presence through the Force…it’s too much sometimes. It’s quiet in here.”

Rey focused on the sounds around her. It was quiet, but there was always a sense that she wasn’t fully alone here. No locked doors. It was always a trust system Rey kept with the Force itself, that she’d never be caught having these often listless, often refreshing conversations with Kylo. He was the enemy, after all, an entitled boy who still thought power meant strength. She’d been angry once. Now, she waited. Glimpses of Ben, these late night sessions, kept the embers heated in her heart.

“Do you feel alone in there?” Rey asked.

Kylo gave a grimace of amusement. “Not with you.”

Her eyes traveled back to the circles he drew.

“Some nights, I’d kill for the isolation. In a way, it was a comfort back on Jakku.”

Kylo adjusted, so she now faced side side. He used an elbow to prop himself up, his muscles shifting under the fabric. She wondered how big his bed was, assuming that’s where he was.

“Comfort?”

“Comfort.” She drew a circle on her own floor. Her stomach coiled tighter. “Freedom.”

She blushed, but somehow catching Kylo’s gaze made it fade. Or, perhaps not fade, but made everything else go hot. Like she’d downed a shot of liquor in that moment. The weariness in his eyes were gone, replaced with a curiosity, a hunger for something he couldn’t name.

“It must’ve been quite liberating,” he said, his cadence slower.

He made a circle on the floor again. The tightness wasn’t just in her stomach.

“A hidden benefit to the isolation.” Despite herself, the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “As loud as I wanted.”

Kylo’s fingers slid down along the floor, until they were at his side.

“And you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper suddenly.

“It’s a release. Temporary, but the one time I feel inside my own body. Like I’m more than just a vehicle for the Force.”

She swallowed, the images washing around her like the soft brush of a wave. Fingertips circled, flashes of pleasure. She knew it, yet everything felt heightened in his head. He wound tighter, so much tighter than her. Would he release harder?

“Do you ever wonder how deep this bond goes?” Kylo said. “If we feel each other’s pain…”

“If we’d feel each other’s pleasure.”

She didn’t know. She placed her hand at her side, slack. No more circles.  
His hand moved inward.

“The connection’s weaker tonight,” he said. “It never felt like we could touch each other.”

Perhaps not physically, but something else—something else did.

Because she felt that, the moment his fingers wrapped around himself. The feeling—yes, it was the tightness, dug itself under her own skin. Familiar in a way, wholly foreign, enthralling. She clenched her fist, resisting mirroring him.

“I feel that,” she sighed.

She shut her eyes for a moment, relishing in the pleasure of it all. It was so real, the sensation really growing between her legs. It was unnatural, everything from the way her stillness resulted in something so good to the principle of the thing. She was leeching off Kylo Ren’s—Kylo’s—Ben’s pleasure.

Eyelids fluttered open, and she locked eyes with Ben. His eyes radiated the hunger, the desire, the desperation. The awe.

As the pleasure built, her own muscles pulling more taut, she dug her nails in the floor. Ben’s eyes followed her.

“Impossible to resist?” he said.

She wanted to retort, but her mouth opened to silence.

Ben shut up too.

Eyes locked. Her limbs stiff against the floor, hands shaking. The ecstasy built, painting every muscle between her legs in the teeming sensation. Yes, he wound himself up, and the release would only have to balance it out.

A light reflected off his eyes. A splintering of white, but seemingly more complex. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn she could see her own reflection, as if they were side by side.

The pleasure exploded to her every nerve, seizing her in a grip harder than she’d never coaxed out herself. And just like that, everything in both their heads went blank. She clamped down on her lip, the moan strangled in the back of her throat. Ben panted, eyes shut as his body slackened.

Rey caught her breath with Ben, the wash of peace softly shifting into one last moment of eye contact. The lines were still under Kylo’s eyes, but he seemed a bit less burdened.

“It helps with sleep sometimes,” Rey said.

Kylo flashed a smile under a bitten lip. “It would’ve been better with you.”

She nodded.

They’d have to be enemies the next morning.

But she agreed. She agreed wholeheartedly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for typos this was done in one sitting.

Kylo knew he was being a poor leader. The motivation would ebb and flow, controlled by emotion. The angrier, more frustrated he got, the more meetings he’d stew in, barking orders over Hux’s yapping and throwing him against the walls if he tried to talk too loudly. Intricate plans executed in hasty manners, constantly on high alert for the Resistance to rear its head like a ground rat. Days where he’d be so exhausted from the weight of the responsibility he’d shouldered onto himself that he’d fall into a black sleep.

Those were the “good” days, though. Most of the time, the dejection spread through the cracks of anger. The regret, the mornings where he’d lock himself in his chambers, ignoring Hux’s yelling as he replayed that night in Snoke’s chamber. After sending Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber through that guard’s skull, he thought about it. Thought about striding up to her and kissing her. They could’ve taken each other on the floor, a new life built from the burden they’d had to snuff out around them. Then she’d said it. Or he had. At that point, he wasn’t so convinced he had the order right. But she’d asked, she’d plead—join her. Join the Resistance, join his mother, who despite every instinct that should've caused Leia to hate him for what he did, still didn’t. And she wanted him to live with that—see his mother and have to be with her knowing she forgave him, but could never really love him the same way she’d loved him as a child. 

He could’ve never done it. 

At the same time, though, he could’ve never gotten Rey to come with him.

And now he paid for it. The Force bond had ripped him open, exposed his insides to the idea of love, of trust, of connection, and left the wound open to fester. He could’ve let Rey fix him up, but he didn’t. So he sat and let the wound fester. Sometimes it’d burn so hard that he could take the pain out on Hux; it made him powerful.

Other days, most days, it just washed fevers of melancholy over him. Sadness so heavy all he could fathom doing was waiting with an empty mind for her. 

Sometimes, she’d answer him. They’d talk like the estranged lovers they never had the chance to be. There was a comfort in the moment, but it left nothing but cold when they separated.

Cold, and now, longing.

Hux had been his usual sniveling, passive-aggressive self the last he’d seen him in the afternoon, and Kylo expected him to keep away for the rest of the evening. Snoke had wanted him and Hux to bond at one point—share professional mutual respect, and perhaps be able to stomach tea together in the midday. It had never happened, and it certainly wouldn’t happen now. 

It left him alone in his chambers, the warmth from a long shower sifting off his skin, surrounded by silence. He thought about Rey. Not enough to be searching the Force for her, but enough that if she was out there, she may notice. If she didn’t come through, perhaps he’d take Rey’s suggestion and walk around the ship. He’d swiped a First Order everyman uniform, and had considered if he could blend into the crew. No black robes, no lightsaber, just himself. The more time he’d gotten to think about it, Kylo Ren really was no more than the costume he wore. He still believed he’d never be Ben Solo again, but if he stripped down enough, played it off like he was just another man, could he be? Could he ever just be Ben?

“Still up?”

Kylo’s heart jumped as he sat up. And there she was, sitting cross legged in loose garments. It didn’t seem like her usual clothing, and a heat rose to his ears thinking he was looking at her in sleepwear. 

Kylo held his gaze on a piece of loose hair falling into Rey’s eyes. “It’s not late.”

Rey slumped forward. “I wouldn’t know. Been on my feet all day.” She propped herself up with an elbow, her cheek pressing into her fist like a bored student. “Unlike you, with the bathrobe and all.”

Kylo could only hope he wasn’t flushing as he wrapped the robe tighter. He had pants on under the robe, but had tried keeping it on to preserve warmth in the currently frigid ( _thanks_ Hux) chambers. 

“It’s nothing,” he muttered.

It made Rey smile, gently shaking her head. “You look like you just got out of a sauna. Do you have a spa on that ship? You must.”

They did. He had a private sauna in his chambers, a new perk of the Supreme Leader position. 

“Yes,” he replied.

Rey rubbed her shoulders. “You have no idea what I’d give for that. Leia took me to meet one dignitary who had all that, and it was like a reset button back to childhood, before I was working every day. Suddenly it made sense how those people could stand and chit chat so idly without going home in pain. They can just wash it away every evening.”

He clenched his fist at his side. “Are you in pain?”

“Sore,” she admitted. “Very sore, and cold.”

He studied her for a moment. He wanted to push the stray hair out of her eyes, to warm her in an embrace, to run his hands over her muscle and kneed the pain away. But he’d lost his chance to move first the night with Snoke. Now, all that mattered was what Rey deemed acceptable. She could do anything to him, but he could do nothing to her.

Still, he could offer. He stepped off back into the bathroom and pulled a heated hand towel off the rack. It was burning hot, enough to ignite the nerves in his hands, but it’d be a good hot when it reached Rey.

He sat back on the bed, facing Rey. He held it out, and a line formed between her brows.

“What’s the towel for?” she asked.

“It’s heated.”

She shook her head, as if willing the moment away. Their fingertips brushed as he handed off the towel, leaving a tightness inside him. It shimmered in a sort of muted pleasure as she sighed into the fabric draped around her neck. It was a soft sound, the kind one could only hear being close to her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Getting there. Thank you.”

They were closer now than they’d been in a while, and for all that Kylo wanted to back away, he stayed in place. Despite the years of cultural events Leia had dragged him to as a child, there was nothing closer to a work of pure art than Rey’s shoulder muscles shifting beneath her skin as she adjusted the towel.

“Hey, your majesty, come here,” Rey said. Kylo startled, eyes back up to meet her. “No, do you feel any knots? Anything I can fix?”

Kylo sensed a hint of challenge in her words, but he’d keep the hope simmering low. He pushed over toward her, placed his hands on her traps. Even with the towel off, her skin was warm. Sure enough, the bumps in her shoulders were tough, hardened and forgotten.

“You seem to have a particularly narrow skill set,” Kylo commented.

No, no, why’d he say that? He just meant—

Rey rolled her eyes. “Not many masseuses on Jakku. Go scavenge for a few years and tell me how narrow my skill set is. Can you get rid of them, or is that not in your skill set?”

“Yes. I,” he paused, “yeah.”

They made eye contact, and she peeled off her shirt. Her breasts were in a binding underneath, a strange comfort even as the sight sent a shiver through his body.

He pressed his fingertips into her bare skin, kneading the knots away. He hadn’t really done this on anyone but himself, but the Force bond made the process easy. As Rey relaxed into him, he knew to keep going. 

“I keep thinking about that night,” Rey said.

Kylo’s stomach wound tight. A little like nausea, but a lot of something light, something teeming with energy. 

“I do too.”

He thought about reducing his touch, but his fingers ran across one hard knot along her shoulder blade. He pressed in hard, to get it over with. She winced, but relaxed again. If it hadn’t been charged before, it was now. He ran a circle around it, loosening the muscle. 

“It was relaxing,” she said. “It helped me for longer than I expected.”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“It felt like the first breakthrough with this bond in a while.”

It did. But it left so much open. So much more he wanted to know.

Rey grabbed his hand. Adrenaline shot through him, his heart thumping as she pulled his hand away from her. She wrapped his arm around her waist. Her bare waist, her abdominal muscles hard beneath the soft skin. 

“You’re tense too,” she said.

“Now,” he said.

“Don’t be.”

He leaned in, daring to hover close enough to her to nearly be leaning on her shoulder with his head. He turned to whisper in her ear, as if possessed. “You’ve got the harder end of the deal. I want to make you feel better.”

She quivered as his breath met her ear. “You are.”

Not enough, though. 

He pulled back, just enough to plant a kiss on the first vertebrate of her spine.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, barely lifting his lips from her back.

“Yes,” she breathed.

As he kissed down her back, he slacked out of Rey’s grip from the front, rolling his fingertips along her belly and down below her pajama pants. She wore nothing beneath the pants, his fingers sliding through her patch of hair and the bulb below. The sensation was enough to tighten his thighs around her from the back, sharing in the friction. But nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing she could feel…yet.  
But the second his fingers found the clit, she bucked. The pleasure was like a blaster hit—sudden, intense to the point of near pain. His cock twitched, the only relief pressing into her back. He caught a glimpse of a smile.

“Too intense?” she asked.

He swallowed. “Not at all.”

He pulled his finger out, popped it into his dry mouth, and got back to work. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he slid both hands toward her sex, one hand holding up the hood to give his wet finger full access. He briefly considered the idea that he could’ve used the Force for this, but there was something so incredible about when their skin touched. 

Rey arched into him, eyes shut, silent except for the changes in her heartbeat. More rapid. Breath coming in shorter intervals. He ran his circles, relishing in their synchronicity. It seemed to go so far beyond the way he was awash in the same pleasure. He couldn’t just feel how good he was making her feel, he could feel how good she felt. She trusted him enough to go limp in his arms, allowing him to support her. She shut her eyes, trusting where his fingers were, and where they’d go.

He tried to keep the circles slow—if not for her, for him and his growing hard on—but something about her wouldn’t let him. As her breath grew quicker, so did his fingers. Faster, harder. He clenched his teeth, holding his breath. It was a sizzling game, who could stay quiet longer. Her muscles were all tightening, up to her abs. She didn’t even have to say it.

The movement had become mechanical. It wouldn’t be for much longer, and he took the second to center himself. He wouldn’t cum before her. Even if female pleasure was so beyond what he could’ve imagined. 

He sped up, to the point where he couldn’t even trace his own movement. Rey tensed. He tensed.

And when she came—Force help him, she came. It ripped through her, igniting nerves through her pelvis, up her spine. It had the intensity of being shot with Force lightening, but none of the pain. Moans escaped both their lips, muffled as they pressed faces into skin. As the pleasure receded, he found himself slumping into her as much her to him.

“So that’s what you feel,” he said.

Rey smiled. “Yep.” She kissed the exposed skin around his collar. “And I can do it again, if you’d like.”

His hand was sore, but a flame burned in his stomach. He wanted to, more than anything right then. 

“Lay back,” he said.

She did as told, and he pulled the pajamas off. Not even all the way off, the pants still hanging off one ankle as he shifted his head between her legs. Same spot, slick from the first round. He lifted the skin with one hand, the other gripping onto her hipbone. 

All his senses came alive as he performed, but there was a strange balance to it all. He hardly tasted her, hardly felt his own movements. But the tactile sensation of his tongue along her skin—he felt that. How smooth, how light, teasing it was. The pleasure was building inside him, but it seemed to build in his gut, in his head. 

Impatience took him for a moment, his movements shifting. Harder, less circles as he kissed her clit, sucking on it enough to make Rey whine. Harder still, until she had woven her hand into his hair. Tight, enough to make his scalp ache. 

He took the ache, though. His ache, her ache. Took it until his jaw was sore, pushing through the fatigue as her fingers began to shake. She came just as hard as the first time, a sigh escaping her lips. The sound was primal, but cut off, as if she’d realized she was no longer alone.

“Ben…” she muttered, sending a shock ten times stronger than the orgasm through his chest.

He wiped his mouth and moved up to kiss her. 

Right before he could, though, she had a hand on his shoulder.

“Ben,” she said. “Hux is right outside.”

Cold spread through him, a fall onto metal floor, a shot back to reality.

“Better act natural,” she said, that beautiful smile still playing on her lips.

He pushed himself back up to a sitting position, pulling the robe off the floor and into his lap. He hadn’t even realized it’d fallen off.

Hux barely peered in. “Supreme Leader—”

And the anger was back. “GET OUT!”

Hux scowled, and shut the door. Didn’t even slam it, the over-disciplined bastard. 

Still, there was one thing that kept him from fully falling that night.

He couldn’t see Rey, but he could hear her laughter ringing for a few seconds before the silence fell.


	3. Chapter 3

Finn had told Rey that she’d been hit hard on the head. Naturally, Finn had been more concerned, Rey more preoccupied with passing through a session with a medical droid so she could relax. And she’d done just that—just a little banged up, sent her to bed with a couple painkillers. A little strong for her, but enough to dull the aches and pains of another arduous Resistance mission so she could re-evaluate the next morning.

  
Including everything she’d seen on that particular mission. The First Order’s weaponry, always imposing, sleek, and precise. The casualties, the lights snuffed out with each fireball. The screams of First Order and Resistance pilots alike. The look in Leia’s eyes as the battle wore on. The way Rey’s ship had passed by the _Supremacy II_ —60 kilometers wide, everyone inside ants. Yet she’d seen him, mask off, stoic, worn. And she swore they’d made eye contact.

  
She’d thought they’d make a connection, some whisper through the Force. Instead, she’d nearly run her and Finn into a passing Tie fighter and she’d gotten the aforementioned head injury from hitting the ceiling of their craft.

  
So, she’d gone to bed expecting some odd dreams.

  
But not this.

It wasn’t images at first. Just a feeling. Suffocation, pain. Not quite a chokehold, but more like someone was crushing her windpipe with their full weight into a boot. Her eyes had shot open, but she wasn’t in her quarters on the base. It was hazy, the lights so bright they hurt to look around. She couldn’t see her attacker’s face, but she sensed he was there. She thought about calling out, begging, a please caught in her chest. It had worked once, she knew.

She was slammed against a wall. Wall? Yes, wall. Hard, hard enough to rattle through her whole body. It felt like her bones were glass, cracked, aching, another push from breaking. She still couldn’t breathe. _Look_ , it had said. She wanted to shut her eyes, but she knew. Eyes open, he’d let go.  
She wasn’t on the ship anymore. She was in space, darkness, nothingness. No, not nothingness. It was all clear. Han, Leia. The doors of the Falcon shutting on an impossibly young Han. _I’ll be back in a week_. He wouldn’t be, though. Wouldn’t check in, either. Leia always worried. _I’ll be back in a week_. He wasn’t. The Falcon exploded before her eyes. 

It was just her and Leia. Leia’s hand on her cheek. _Lights out, I’ll be back before you wake_. She never was. Startled awake at night in cold sweat. She wasn’t there. Back to sleep, light out, still gone. She ran through an impossibly narrow hallway. Into her room. She was there, her white robes stained scarlet red. 

She wanted to look away. Needed to. But she couldn’t shut her eyes. _Don’t look away_ , he said. If she did what he said, maybe he’d let her breathe…

  
Rey shot up from the dream, sweat lining her brow, her heart speeding. Her head didn’t hurt any more, but everything else felt alive, the nerves teeming with nervous energy. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, taking careful breaths.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

He laid in bed next to her, hands covering his face, matted dark hair stuck between his fingertips. He breathed heavy, loudly, but said nothing. He was bare chested, but where she’d once only seen power in his bulk, she saw the desperation as his muscles heaved for air to heal the terror of the nightmare.

“Did he really do all that to you?” Rey whispered.

Kylo jerked his gaze over to her, his hair falling into his eyes, his mouth. He made no attempt to adjust.

“You saw that?” he asked.

Rey nodded. “As if it were me.”

She brushed the hair out of Kylo’s face. A shock ran through her hands as her finger pad brushed against his lips. They were dry. 

“Yes,” he said. 

She should’ve pulled her hand away, but she’d never really had a chance like this. His skin wasn’t perfect, with freckles and bumps. Still, he was hot beneath her touch, unflinching at their intimacy.

Slowly, his hand moved up to meet hers. Laid his palm over the back of her hand. He shut his eyes, tension building in his facial muscles. He peeled her hand off his. A little bit of force, like he was removing a suction cup. But he didn’t let go of her hand.

“He wanted me to get used to the images,” he continued. “They’re unnatural. He said he understood that, but that…anything can become comfortable if I saw it enough.”

_Did it help?_

“No,” he said. They both paused, their hands falling to the sheets. 

“I didn’t say that out loud,” Rey said. She slid her hand over his. “It must be strong tonight.”

She could feel it down to the way his hand felt. Solid, warm, detailed. Every tendon and vein a hill to run over, his skin rigid as she moved it. Dryness, she supposed.

“Have you had those dreams before?” she asked.

“Yes.” He inhaled deeply. “He never leaves.”

She squeezed his hand. “I knew that feeling.” His eyes darted to her. “How they’d say they’d come back, and you’d sit there coming up with every way they wouldn’t come back.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “And in the end, I don’t even know how they died.”

He brushed a tear off her cheek. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

The corners of her lips pulled up. It wasn’t a joke, but there was still something there. A comfort, a relief, a connection. She’d never had this before, and Lord, she wasn’t sure she could imagine not having this. Even if it’d never bleed into the morning, leave this room. Even if they’d never be together. Even if she could never join him, love him.

The smile swept itself away, leaving her lip trembling. “I saw you today. Outside.”

The softness in Kylo’s face shifted away. He licked his lips. “I know.”

“What were you thinking?” _We weren’t connected then._

He cradled her cheek. “How much I wished I could be there with you.”

“You still can,” she said, her words barely a whisper.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

The tear Kylo hadn’t swept up fell to her jawline.

“That you looked so empty.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever filled me.”

He kissed the tear on her jaw. It was relief, it was pleasure, it was comfort. She wanted to talk more, but suddenly the distance between them was too much. It was cold, the air around them felt dead, her heart ached, and everything could be solved with the man— _the Force projection_ —the man next to her. She pressed her lips against his, tasting the salt between his lips, bridging every gap possible. 

It felt like survival, the want somehow shifted to a primal need. She kissed him hard, dug her hands into his hair and pushed her face into hers. His hair was soft, his lips hungry. Hungrier than she’d expected, like the two of them had been defective electronics kicked back to life. He held her tight around her waist, his grip strong, his hands solid. In his arms, she swore nothing could tear her from him. His every touch teemed with it, the tunnel vision, the singularity in his actions. In those moments, however fleeting they were, she was the only thing he cared about, and he’d do anything to keep her. It was so foreign, overwhelmed, frightening even, but with him, it was natural. It was real. She knew he was holding her like she’d slip away in a moment not just because of the Force bond. Because it was all she thought as well.

She broke away from bitten lips to kiss along his neck. His arteries beneath the skin pulsed with rushing blood. He didn’t make sounds. Taught to be ashamed, or just nervous she’d never quite figured out. But she still knew. He expressed it in micro-actions, the twitch of his lips, a sharp inhalation of breath, a curled fingertip around the small of her back. As she kissed him, she slid her hands down. Down his neck, to his shoulders, over his—his scar.  
Rey paused for a moment, breathing onto his skin. She waited. Did it hurt when he remembered that night—?

“It doesn’t now,” he said. “It hasn’t for a long time.”

He kissed the crown of her head. Ran a hand under her night shirt. 

“Do you want this?” he asked.

“Do you?”

Neither answered. Both answered, mouths crashing back together. Mouths open, tongues snaking between lips. She pressed into his torso—so solid, so warm, so everything she needed. It only made the excitement grow as he tightened his grip around her, around her bare skin. Still, he hesitated.  
She placed her hands over his, pulled them up to mime the action. He followed through, removing her shirt. Bare chests together, it was like a lone fire in a world of snow. Rey had never believed much in soul mates, but something felt so right about being skin to skin with him. It felt like suddenly recalling an old memory that’d been itching in the back of her head all her life. A moment of release, of so this is what I’m always supposed to feel. She didn’t know what it was, but she’d do anything to stretch the seconds.

She pressed her hips into his, grinded in little circles. And there was that raw pleasure, the raging mix of her pleasure and his as it seeped through the Force bond. She sighed into his mouth, arching into the sensation. 

“You like that?” he growled in her ear, even igniting the nerves there.

“I do,” she said into his collarbone. 

“For you…”

He adjusted his position, realigned their pelvises, and dug into her. He was hard, and perfect against her. She matched his pressure, biting her lip tighter as they touched, the pleasure ebbing and flowing in a perfect pattern. And with each movement, the sensation grew stronger, her muscles tightening between her hips. 

She grabbed at his hips, at the flimsy pajamas between them. “Come on, before I come.”

She looked up at Ben, made the eye contact. His lip jerked up. A smirk, a simper, she couldn’t quite say. 

They practically ripped each other’s pajama pants off, and they were together before she’d recognized the cold in the space between their bodies. She grunted, hand down between them to adjust. He’d gone in so smoothly, but these things were never quite perfect.

She wanted to shut her eyes, but Kylo—Ben’s gaze was magnetic. He spelled it out—the insatiable appetite, the desire, the impatience, and yet, the contentment, the way someone looks at someone like nothing else ever existed or would exist. It brought as much warmth as their bodies intertwined, a shiver through her veins, igniting her nerves to almost over-stimulation before they even finished. His eyes were dark, but they had the galaxy in them. The stars, the planets, the beauty, the pain, the hope. 

So they held their gazes, stared into the universe as he thrusted. He moved rough, but controlled. How he fought. She’d have a hard time forgetting that the next time she saw him wield a lightsaber.

She clenched her jaw, the pleasure licking every inch of her skin. Yet it was bigger than that. She felt her own tautness spread from within, but it jumped from her fingertips onto the skin of his shoulder blades as she held him. From the ball growing deep in her stomach to his. She squeezed her thighs, and it blasted the pleasure toward her. His was twisted, chaotic, like a quickly overflowing tumbler in a bar she couldn’t keep from spilling over. She couldn’t even quite distinguish it, except that it felt so damn good. She felt so damn good around him, with him inside her. 

Release had always felt good. Sometimes it felt better than others. But she’d never quite been lost in it. Not lost in the way where she forgot who she was with, where she was. No, she knew all that. But it was like passing into a different plane, one where they truly were one creature, the pleasure building from a ball being pressed too hard, released with an explosion that hit them both equally. Equally, no. That implied two halves. It just…hit. She dug her nails into his skin, felt the pinpricks of pain against his flesh. He shuddered inside her, and she felt the twitch of his cock as the climax ripped through him. They held each other tight, desperate, breath warm against their necks, their heartbeats perfectly in synch.

And they waited like that for a few moments, slowly pulling each other apart.

The first thing she did was push his hand out of his face.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to do that in the same room?” Ben asked.

They were still so close she could see the every mark on Ben’s face, the exact shade of pink his scar was.

She took his hand, interlaced their fingers. “I wish I could promise you I’d be here when you wake up.”

He squeezed her hand. “It’s not like with them.” He swallowed. “Somehow, I trust that you’ll come back.”

She settled her head into her pillow. “How long do you think we can hold the connection?” 

He slipped an arm around waist. Hold light, but secure. “So you always sleep alone?”

“Always.”

She nudged closer to him, until she had her cheek on his chest. He was solid, but somehow there was more comfort in the way his chest rose and fell beneath her. He was a man. A tortured, regretful, lost, beautiful human. And despite everything, he felt the same about her.

She knew what he was going to say. Not tonight.

Rey shut her eyes, focusing on Ben’s breathing. He pulled the covers up higher around them. 

And for the first time in decades, Rey fell asleep with someone else.

It felt just as good as she remembered.

It did for him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, thanks for reading my fic! I'm going to try to write more Reylo, but we'll see when the muse strikes next. Maybe I can even do a multi-chap (or at least take prompts or something). Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Woo it's my annual Reylo multi-chap smut fic! Hope everyone enjoys!


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